


The Stowaway and the General

by magebirdi



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: A mostly canon compliant au with a tiny what-if., Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:40:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24390709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magebirdi/pseuds/magebirdi
Summary: If Iroh hadn’t found Zuko after their ship was blown up by pirates.
Relationships: Iroh & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 136





	1. Chapter 1

Zuko always tried to follow in his father's footsteps. He couldn't do it as well as Azula could; it was obvious to everyone which of Fire Lord Ozai's children took after him the most. But Zuko tried his best to think of what would make his father the most proud of him, even after he was banished and told to search for the Avatar.

Usually, that meant keeping order on his ship. It meant steadily going forward - and sometimes rushing - towards where the Avatar had to be lurking. It meant firebending against a boy who thankfully only had mastery over a single element, even when a little voice in the back of his mind kept reminding him that he'd never be as good as his sister.

(A voice that, notably, sounded a lot like his father.)

Zuko felt like his father even less now. No one would dare to go against his father; the scar on Zuko's face was a reminder of that. The fire lord would have never let Zhao take his men. And even if someone _had_ taken his men, his father wouldn't be laying on his bed with a pillow on his face.

Zuko had been angry, at first. He always was. He knew some of his temper was his father's; that was the one thing he had in common with him. But the anger had faded, especially after his uncle had left him to go for a walk. Maybe he should have gone with him. It just felt _depressing_ laying on his bed in his cabin, waiting for some magical change in his fate. He was supposed to be restoring his honor, not mourning something that, in retrospect, should have probably been expected.

Then he heard a noise.

Zuko sat up.

"Uncle?" he asked. That was strange. His uncle always announced when he returned to the ship, and he couldn't have been gone for that long, either. It was hard keeping track of time while laying in his room, but it hadn't felt all that long.

He got to his feet.

The halls were silent as he climbed up to the highest peak of the ship.

Something felt off. _Wrong_ , even. His body was screaming at him like it had right before he turned and saw his father in the Agni Kai. Right before his face was set alight. Right before those Water Tribe siblings showed up and rescued the Avatar what felt like an eternity ago. It was the feeling he got every time something was about to go horribly, terribly wrong, and that alone made him wary.

Then he saw the green bird flit in front of the window.

A bird, he realized, that had belonged to the pirates who had stolen his little boat.

His eyes widened in horror.

Zuko barely had any time to react before the explosions went off.

The last things he remembered were fire, pain, and water pulling him into its icy depths.

**X**

Iroh was thinking.

He always was, to some extent. People had a tendency to think he was lazy for the way he took his breaks and time, but they always underestimated the power of a good walk or a nice, relaxing bath. And now, more than ever, he needed to think.

Trying to break through the walls of Ba Sing Se felt easier than the task ahead of him. Admiral Zhao had taken their crew. He knew his nephew would want to keep chasing after the Avatar; he would man the ship himself if he had to. As it was, Zuko was probably planning on heading straight after Zhao's fleet - even if that meant facing the consequences of defying someone so high up in Ozai's ranks.

Iroh let out a quiet sigh.

It was hard, picking up the pieces of what his brother had done a little less than three years ago. His brother hadn't just burned Zuko's heart. He had burned his heart, too - his very spirit. Zuko was the one who had decided to chase after the Avatar, but Iroh had encouraged it. His nephew had only been twelve at the time; what else was he supposed to do? Even though the Avatar hadn't been seen for a hundred years, he was Zuko's hope. He inspired him to get out of bed each morning.

Maybe Zuko knew, somewhere, that his father wouldn't take him back if he really did capture the Avatar. That Ozai had never seen his son and daughter as anything other than means to an end. Iroh didn't dare broach the subject, especially now that the Avatar was a tangbile person and not an intangible ideal.

But in a single night, the Avatar had become just as out of reach as before - the admiral had taken his nephew's hope from him.

And Iroh didn't know how he would ever return it.

He studied the ground underneath his feet.

That was when he smelled the smoke.

The muffled blast came just a handful of seconds later, but by then a dark, heavy ball had settled in the depths of Iroh's stomach. He felt like he had back at Ba Sing Se when his son's commanding officer came to tell him the news of his death - he just _knew_ that something horrible had happened.

Iroh turned.

The flames leaping off of the entirety of his nephew's ship lit up the dark night sky.

" _Zuko_ ," he managed to get out.

**X**

By the time he reached the ship, it no longer looked like the majestic vessel it had been before. Flames had crushed seemingly impenetrable steel. To an onlooker, the only hint that it had once been a Fire Nation ship was the burning flag that had landed on the dock - but even that was a pale imitation of what it had once been.

Iroh fell to his knees.

For the first moment, he didn't say anything. He didn't _do_ anything. His mind could barely accept the sight before him - and its implications. The grief was the same, overwhelming grief he had felt when he lost Lu Ten. Because, Iroh had realized a _long_ time ago, Zuko was like a son to him.

... _Had _been like a son to him.__

__He wasn't sure how long he sat there on the edge of the dock. He wasn't sure how long he cried when the tears finally started to fall, either. But when he saw the same bird his nephew - though he didn't know it - had seen moments before the ship exploded flying off towards a boat filled with people, he knew exactly who had destroyed his nephew's ship and life._ _

__For a moment, Iroh wanted the pirates to pay the price. He was too far away, but he wanted to wrap their ship in a fiery inferno - just like the inferno his unlucky, poor nephew had seen in his last moments._ _

__But Iroh knew it would be pointless._ _

__The pirates gained nothing from killing Zuko; there were so many other ways someone could take revenge. As Iroh wiped his tears with his sleeve and stared into the deep, dark depths of the water, he tried to think of who would gain the most from this. Not Zuko's father; banishment was enough for that. And it certainly wasn't something the Avatar or his companions would do - those children were Zuko's age and even younger. They could never do something horrible like this._ _

__He took a deep breath and slowly let it out._ _

__Then he rose to his feet._ _

__There was one man responsible for this. One man who desperately wanted Iroh by his side as an advisor, even though Iroh knew fully well that he would never listen to a word Iroh suggested. And if Zuko was out of the way - that man had surely thought in his cruel, ambitious mind - then Iroh would only have one duty left to perform for the Fire Nation._ _

__To join Admiral Zhao in raiding the Northern Water Tribe._ _

__Lu Ten's death had made him passive._ _

__But Zuko's death would hone that passiveness into a sharply cut blade._ _


	2. Chapter 2

He joined Admiral Zhao for tea the next day. Focusing on the steaming cup of tea in his hands was the only way he could keep his mask from breaking. Seeing the steam rise into the air brought back memories of the billowing smoke - all too fresh in his mind - but those memories gave him the resolve he needed.

"I'm devastated to hear about Prince Zuko," Zhao said, in the same exact tone Ozai had used all of those years ago after hearing the news about Lu Ten. "Absolutely devastated."

Iroh took a sip of his tea.

"The Fire Lord will not be pleased when he learns who was responsible," he said. He kept his gaze mostly on his tea, but snuck a glance in Zhao's direction to see his reaction. He was trying to trick him, of course, but Iroh would have been lying to himself if he didn't admit the pause was to see Zhao squirm.

Zhao knew exactly who the more powerful of the two of them was.

"You know who was behind the attack?"

He gave a small nod. "Yes..." he said, savoring Zhao's wariness, "...pirates. We had a run-in with them a while back."

Zhao sipped his tea.

"Have you reconsidered my offer?" he asked, dropping all pretenses of empathy and pity. This was what he had wanted from the very start.

Iroh put his tea down.

"Yes," he said. He gave a small nod again. "I accept. It would be an honor to serve as your general. To the Fire Nation!"

"To victory!"

 _And to your defeat,_ Iroh thought.

If he hadn't been so focused on his plan falling into place, Iroh might have noticed how one of the guards posted by the door shifted and ducked his head down.

**X**

They had been sailing for a few days now. The air had begun to grow cold as they approached the Northern Water Tribe. Iroh used the change in temperature as an excuse to stay in the room that had been provided for him. He told himself it was because he needed time to plan; if not that, it was to avoid slipping during a casual conversation.

But Iroh knew that it was because he wanted to hide.

He knew he was doing exactly what he had coaxed Zuko from doing after Ozai had fought him in the Agni Kai. That it wasn't _healthy_ to be sitting away from the sun and other people for so long. Grief was never healed through solitary agony. Still, Iroh couldn't interact with Zhao or his crew - even the ones that had formerly been Zuko's crew.

One of those crew members had suggested what he was doing now. A few of the rooms had metal tubs that could be filled with water taken from the sea outside. When the water was heated to just the right temperature, it felt like a hot spring. Zhao had given him a room with one, likely as a courtesy gift and nothing else. He hadn't tried it until the crew member suggested it - seeming to understand how desperately Iroh needed any form of comfort right now.

The young man had been right. The water was exactly what he needed right now. He felt like he was cleaning his skin and his mind. And even though his chest still ached for his nephew, the pain became ever so slightly easier to bear.

The door creaked.

Iroh looked towards it.

One of Zhao's men had entered with a tray full of tea. He knew the tea would taste terrible, but he offered the soldier a small smile. The soldier only stared at him for a moment before looking away - an almost familiar look in his golden eyes.

"Thank you," Iroh said as the soldier put the tea down.

The soldier, who had been heading for the door, froze. He was wearing the full suit of armor the Fire Nation soldiers wore - the white, skull-like mask included. Zhao had been hounding his men to wear it lately, but most of them were avoiding it until they were closer to the Northern Water Tribe. This soldier must have been a little more dedicated to the rules and tradition than his comrades.

Still, Iroh had always had a soft spot for soldiers.

He wasn't sure what came over him, but something about the hesitation and just how _small_ the soldier looked in his uniform made Iroh decide that he could use a conversation with his daily tea.

"Come sit," Iroh offered. "Join me while I have my afternoon tea."

The soldier hesitated for a moment, his gaze going between the door and the tea set down beside the tub.

"You don't have to," Iroh added. "It's not an order. Tea, however, is _very_ good for calming nerves."

After lingering by the doorway, the soldier slipped back into the room and closed the door softly behind him. He awkwardly sat down on the ground beside the tub, not even bothering to grab a cushion from around the table in the corner of the room.

"This must be your first battle," Iroh guessed.

The soldier looked up at him for a moment, only to avert his eyes immediately afterwards. He grabbed the tea kettle and poured both Iroh and him cups of tea.

"It's alright to be nervous," Iroh said. "Even I get nervous, and I've seen more battles than you could possibly count."

The soldier shook his head; he seemed to be the silent type. But from the way he kept staring down at his tea, and the way his hands shook as he held the cup, Iroh knew that his guess had been right. This soldier - this boy, because he couldn't have been that old - was terrified of the attack.

For good reason - attacking the water tribe so close to the full moon was a foolish attack. He doubted the soldier knew that much about bending; few soldiers had access to proper teachers. But anyone could see the flaws in the plan Zhao had been proposing since they left the Fire Navy's base.

"What will you do in the battle?" Iroh asked.

Sometimes, a change in topic was the best comfort one could provide.

The soldier thought for a moment, then placed the tea cup down on the ground. He held out a hand and let flames spring to life in its palm. The flame was small. Timid, even. For a moment, Iroh was transported back to the first few days that followed Zuko's defeat and banishment. Bending was often tied to one's emotions. Though Zuko's firebending had ultimately been fueled by his anger, his bending those first few days was much more withdrawn.

"Ah," he said, "you're a firebender."

The soldier nodded.

"Your flames are beautiful," Iroh added.

The flames disappeared. The soldier looked up at Iroh for a moment. Gold met amber as their gazes met. But then the soldier looked away again; Iroh just wished he understood the reason for his discomfort.

"What's your name?" Iroh finally asked.

The soldier froze.

When he finally gave an answer a minute later, his voice was so quiet that Iroh - only a few feet away - couldn't hear what he was saying. The soldier looked over at him. Seeming to realize that Iroh hadn't heard him, he spoke up a little louder.

"...Lee," the soldier said, his voice almost too deep - like he was trying to sound older than he was.

"Lee is a very good name."

The soldier faltered again.

A moment later, he was on his feet again. His tea cup sat full and steaming as he headed over to the door - his footsteps nervous and quick. "I...I need to be going," Lee said.

Iroh shifted in the tub; something sounded _familiar_ about the soldier's voice.

"Thank you for talking to me," he said, hoping that he could hear another snippet of Lee's voice. "I...I could use the company after the death of my nephew."

Lee stood in the doorway, his hand gripped the doorknob so hard that Iroh thought he might break it.

"I know we are almost at the North Pole, but you can come to my room whenever you want to talk," Iroh offered.

Lee let go of the doorknob; Iroh didn't miss the little droplets of molten metal that fell from it after he started to step out into the hallway.

"Goodbye uncle," the soldier said, seemingly out of habit.

Iroh froze.

Lee froze, too.

"... _Zuko _?" Iroh whispered.__


End file.
